Punta del Este, as my new Uruguayan friend Gabriel pointed out, is either loved or detested. But I was surprised by how unemotional I felt about the place. It's glitzy, sure, but it hardly resembled the cultureless, high-rise landscape I expected to find. There are bookstores, for crying out loud, not to mention quirky single-family houses, modest and villa-like both, in between the apartment blocks. I found myself really enjoying the place, the scale of which was perfect for an afternoon exploration. At the same time, I was glad that we were staying on a bucolic little stretch of beach 15-plus kilometers away.
Fishing shop.
Ramshackle old bus.
A named abode.
Concrete shoreline.
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